


Dinner Date

by Mikey (mikes_grrl)



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Multi, Threesome romance angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-19
Updated: 2008-07-19
Packaged: 2017-10-02 11:52:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikes_grrl/pseuds/Mikey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam hasn’t got a clue, but the Hunts have a plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner Date

**Author's Note:**

> Another “I’m not happy with it but WTH, I’m over it, please take my pain away.” This was kinda sorta prompted by [this](http://community.livejournal.com/lifein1973/1090798.html?thread=12666606#t12666606) although it does not actually answer ANY of the bunny prompts listed there. But you know me and threesomes (don’t you?) and I just thought it a crying shame that there hasn’t been any Gene/Sam/Missus heavy breathing going on. And that is all the excuse I can offer. Now, I know, Sarah Hunt is probably as close as I get to writing a mary-sue (at least in public), but it’s the best I could do. Forgive me.
> 
> CREDIT: I’ve got to give props to adelphi23 for supporting the whole concept and encouraging me to finish it, because if she had not, I would not have, and we’d have not. *grin*

The first time Sam met ‘Missus’ was at a not-very-formal departmental dinner party, and he was stunned. She was at least as old as he was and not ‘fresh’ or ‘perky’ or ‘tight’ but well-rounded in all the best ways, an hour glass figure perfectly proportioned on her statuesque frame. She stood as tall as Sam in flats, which put her at 5’9” with three inches on Annie. Her alabaster skin and auburn hair set off her dark hazel eyes and her unconventional profile, which made her look more Italian than English. By the standards of the era she was too tall, too old and too ‘exotic’ to be considered a beautiful woman but Sam thought Gene finally got something right for once. She was certainly beautiful by Sam’s standards, which were never on par for any era really, and her attractiveness was marred only by the a hideous lime green matronly polyester party dress she was wrapped in. Sam cursed the world that thought any woman over twenty-five was ‘old’ because Mrs. Hunt really, really needed to be in a clingy low cut black dress with a slit to the thigh…Sam derailed his thought process as if amputating his arm. She was polite and well groomed and while her accent was working class Mancunian all the way, she gave off a sophisticated air of intelligence and long-suffering amusement with a quirk in the corner of her lips. Sam wrote down that last to Gene’s presence in her life.

However, if nothing else, all the stories of Gene’s peers in the force hitting on her suddenly made sense, because Sam accidentally found himself hitting on her too. She was standing to the side looking put upon as Gene verbally fenced with Rathbone and Sam took pity, engaging her with an innocuous and awkward discussion about the lousy weather. She smiled.

“You’re bad at this.”

Sam grimaced and nodded. “Not your man for small talk.” He smiled weakly, admiring her straightforwardness. A good match for Gene, he thought, which got him to wondering what a good match for him would be.

“Sam?”

“Oh, Mrs. Hunt, I’m sorry…”

“Gene was right. You do look lost.”

Again Sam stalled in the honesty. “He talks about me?”

She nodded and stepped in a little to make their conversation more private. “He does. Talks about you a lot. Wondered why he never brought you ‘round for a visit, but I think he believed yeh to be moving on quickly.”

Surprised by the conversation, Sam shook his head earnestly. “I’m staying. I made my choice.”

“Not an easy one, yeah?” She smiled again, a little sadly.

“Uh…no. No, it wasn’t…Sometimes I think Gene…the Guv doesn’t understand that.” Sam glanced over at Gene, and Mrs. Hunt followed his gaze.

“No, probably not. Don’ mean he don’t appreciate it.”

Sam shrugged, not certain that he could agree. He stared at his glass and then felt a light touch on his arm.

“Where you at?”

He looked up at her and he felt like her concern was probably inappropriate but she sounded so sincere he wanted to just pull her outside the room, sit down, and _talk_. About life, and pain, and Gene, and regret…his friendship with Gene had stalled about the same time his relationship with Annie dissipated, and now Sam found himself alone more than not, unless he was at the pub. Sarah’s compassion was evident and it was a childish wish to confide his life into her arms but right then it felt like anything was possible.

She cocked her head to the side, acting annoyed although her eyes were smiling. “C’mon, DI Tyler. Where you at?”

He leaned in closer. “I’m here.”

She smiled mischievously and leaned in further to match him. “A good place to be.”

He felt mischievous himself as he returned her smile, then a bit naughty, and then damned to hell. He pulled back in horror as soon as he realized what he was doing, but the look on her face showed plainly that she knew it before he did. Sam smiled sheepishly, made a very lame excuse and all but ran for the drink table to hide behind Annie before Gene could turn away from Rathbone and sniff out Sam’s wicked depravity.

Later, he queried Phyllis by plying her with daiquiris and found out the story. Gene and Sarah hated each other passionately all the way through school. She was five years his junior and he tormented her endlessly. According to Phyllis, though, Sarah was ‘one bright penny’ and got her revenge by marrying Gene so she could torment him for the rest of their lives. Phyllis clearly approved.

Sam, along with a substantial portion of the men present (and WPC Mary Pauley among others) kept one eye on Sarah Hunt most of the night. It was a primitive reaction that Gene obviously both loved and hated. He took great pride in parading his fine woman about, and also took great pride in staring down men who were staring at her a little too much. Sam made sure he was not one of those men. He and Annie were friendly these days, the affair fizzling out on both Sam’s bad relationship habits and Annie’s newfound sense of career ambition, but that night he stuck to her like a fawning limpet. One thing he never wanted Gene to even suspect was that his wife gave Sam a hard on. No, that idea sent chills straight to his cock, withering his libido better than any bottle of whiskey ever could.

Later that night, though, his libido burst through with astounding force and Sam fisted himself to orgasm in his shower, imagining stroking his cock in between Sarah Hunt’s substantial, naked breasts as she writhed beneath him, smiling.

\------------

The first time Sam felt Gene’s erection pressing against him was in the very public space of Gene’s office, as Gene held him up against the filing cabinet by his lapels. Sam was on his toes as Gene’s mass and strength lifted him off the floor, and Sam snarled, fighting Gene’s hands, his squirming threatening to unbalance them both. Gene growled back at him and stepped one foot in between Sam’s legs, and Sam’s world went into slow motion as he registered just what was pressing into his thigh. He raised his head slowly to look Gene in the eye and instead of the fury or shame or disgust he thought he was going to be his death warrant, the expression on Gene’s face was stoic amusement. Gene kept the stance and the hold and the erection, and simply watched Sam silently. Too panicked to react to anything, Sam just panted and tried not to move at all, and finally Gene let him go, yelling about whatever it was they were arguing over, which for the life of him Sam could not remember. He hastily agreed to everything and fled down to the canteen, just to be out of Gene’s range.

In bed later that night, though, Sam knew he was in trouble as he stroked himself to a hard, brutal orgasm remembering the heat and length and pressure of Gene against his thigh.

He wrote it off as a fever dream until the following week. They were on a stake out that threatened to turn into an eternity. It was the dead hours, right after three am, when sleep was close and insanity not too far away, and Sam gave into the former. He heard Gene next to him, awake and sipping coffee, and Sam’s exhausted mind justified that as good enough cover for him to doze.

He woke up to recognizable sounds, furtive but basic, and Sam kept his eyes closed, trying not to imagine his Guv wanking off in the driver’s seat, and desperately hoping his jacket was somehow, miraculously, hiding his own growing hard-on.

“Sam.”

His eyes flew open involuntarily to meet Gene’s. He was biting his lower lip as his left hand worked his cock hard, and he glanced down at Sam’s lap where his open jacket hid nothing. Sam knew his erection was pressing against his trousers and he knew there was nothing he could say to explain that away. Their eyes locked again and Gene rolled his body, thrusting softly into his hand. Sam tried not to groan, then felt Gene’s right hand at his neck, pulling him down.

Sam had not given a blow job to anyone in a while, but the mechanics were familiar and he took Gene’s hot cock into his mouth quickly. He tongued the head as he went down the shaft, swallowing to contract his throat muscles and trying not to groan in pleasure at the sensation and taste of raw sex. It had been too long a dry spell for Sam not to be completely taken in and charged up by what was going on. He felt Gene’s right hand moving off his neck and around his torso to push into his erection, and this time Gene groaned, leaning into Sam and jerking his hips as he explored Sam's hard-on. Unwilling to come in his trousers, Sam quickly reached down and together they got his pants unzipped and open, and Sam whined as Gene took him in hand and began stroking in time with Sam’s sucking mouth.

It was dirty and it was fast and they both came like rockets, Gene curled up with his left hand locked on the back of Sam’s head as his right hand furiously pumped Sam dry. Sam rested a second in Gene’s lap, above his spent cock, gasping for air and expecting Gene to hurl him away or just kill him outright and wondering about how disastrously this was going to affect his performance review the following month. Instead, he felt Gene petting his hair, murmuring something that Sam was prepared to swear on his own grave was NOT ‘sweet boy’ and holding Sam’s limp dick in a warm embrace. In fact, Gene did not move until Sam started pushing back. They did not talk about it, and Gene was wholly unperturbed by the event, so Sam cleaned up and packed up and waited out the rest of the morning with a hyperactive mind until Ray and Chris showed up to relieve them at seven. When Gene dropped him off at his flat, Sam leapt out of the car and ran for cover before Gene had second thoughts about letting him live.

That night, though, what Sam remembered and feared most of all was not the smell or the taste of Gene or the hungry look in his eyes, it was his voice, soft and soothing and almost – impossibly – loving as Sam dropped down from his high, face down in Gene’s lap. Sam could easily pretend that it was the voice of someone who _cared_, of someone who loved him, and not the droning after-effects of meaningless sex in a car. Sam was smart enough and experienced enough to know that the most dangerous risk was to wager his heart on post-coital affection, and he did not want to imaging the pain of being in love with the man who fucked him.

\---------------

“Excuse me?”

“Dinner. Seven. Missus cooked leg of lamb, been slavin’ all day for your benefit. So you need to show up, or she’ll get on me case about it.” Gene sniffed loudly, standing over Sam’s desk as Sam looked at him with what he was sure was livid terror written all over his face.

It was two weeks since ‘The Cortina Incident’, as Sam privately referred to it, and there had been no repeat performances or discussion of the matter. Life in CID moved as turgidly as it always did, Gene fought him on every sensible idea like he always did, and Sam slept alone in his hideous flat masturbating like a teenager like he always did. He resolutely refused to broach the topic unless Gene did first, and Gene did not, so the matter was closed. Whether that made Sam happy or furious was something he changed his mind about every five minutes, even as he kept up an endless interior monologue with himself about being better off alone in bed.

“Me?”

“You deaf? She feels it’s time she got to know my DI, since you plan on stayin’ about and making my life as miserable as possible, and as you two have that mutual goal in common, I’m sure you’ll get on right well together.” Gene sniffed again and gave a deadly glare to the rest of the team, who were all snickering and not hiding it well.

“…Me?” Sam repeated, knowing at an intellectual level that it was by now a stupid and redundant question, but simply too stunned to come up with better. His boss, the man he gave a _blow job_ to in his car, was asking him home for dinner with the wife, whom Sam would gladly accept a blow job from. He was looking down the jaws of hell, express route courtesy of his libido, side serving of roasted lamb as bonus.

Gene rolled his eyes and held his hands out in a persecuted stance. “Oh, that you would be this quick-witted and insightful in all our cases, Tyler.”

“Right. Right. Okay! I’ll…uh…be there.”

“Be where?” Gene glared at him, and Sam shook his head.

“…I don’t know?”

“Exactly. So I will pick you up at your flat at six forty-five. Pre-cise-ly. Wash yerself and smell nice, and wear…” Gene flapped an annoyed hand at him. “…something proper, for a change. With a tie. Not bringing a hippy ‘ome to the missus.”

Abashed, Sam just nodded.

“Right then. Back to work.” Gene marched into his office.

“Why do I feel like I was just asked out on a date?” Sam groaned when Annie came over to commiserate. She laughed at the ridiculousness of the statement and patted his arm reassuringly. Ray spoke up being him.

“Guv’s right particular about ‘oo he brings home to the missus. You present poorly, makes ‘im look bad and she fills ‘is flasks with cheap blended whiskey for weeks,” Ray said knowingly, and there were several grunts of agreement from everyone in the room. Ray looked around. “Remember when the Guv took DI Brown ‘ome for dinner?”

“Oh, bloody ‘ell…” Multiple voices groaned in chorus at the memory, and Sam grimaced.

“Best you clean up and smell good and talk pretty, Boss, or she’ll make ALL of our lives a living ‘ell for a long time,” Ray said cryptically, and again everyone in the room agreed anxiously. Sam looked forlornly at Annie, who shrugged, then leaned in over the desk.

“Do you _own_ a tie, Sam?”

Lunch was spent shopping for a shirt and a tie and a jacket that all matched and would work with the collection of pants he already owned. Annie was perplexed by his instance that neither the shirt nor the jacket be polyester or green, or that the tie be anything but paisley, but she knew the stores that might have items matching his requirements. None did. Sam instead dragged her into a charity second-hand shop and to her unmitigated horror, walked out with a narrow fifties style black dinner jacket with narrow lapels and satin piping, two plain cotton button down shirts in blue and darker blue, and a mid-sixties blue and black striped skinny silk tie.

“Which shirt?” Sam asked anxiously in the locker room back at the station, hanging the jacket up carefully and holding up the shirts.

“They’re both blue.”

“Yes, but this…” Sam waved one shirt. “This is _indigo_ and this…” He waved the other one. “This is cerulean.”

“Cerulean. Sets off the tie.” Ray answered, leaning against the door frame, smoking and studying the ensemble. “Good choice. The Missus likes blue. Always told me she was fond of me eyes.” He added smugly and walked off. Annie patted Sam’s shoulder as he tried not to hyperventilate.

“Wear whatever feels comfortable, Sam. It’s just dinner.”

Nothing felt comfortable as a squeaky clean DI Sam Tyler stood in his flat, waiting in his new outfit, trying to fight the urge to loosen the tie. He had not worn a tie in a while and he forgot how much like a noose it felt. He knew he was over-reacting, because if Gene was going to pretend that the blow job never happened, then for all intents and purposes it never happened. It was just dinner with his boss and the boss’ wife. Leg of Lamb and Yorkshire pudding. Just dinner.

He heard the Cortina pull up out front and Gene stomping up the stairs before he could muster the willpower to grab his wallet and head out the door, and in the next second Gene walked in. He was obviously ‘dressed for dinner’ in a nice suit and tie, although he still looked as rumpled as he always did at work. Gene inspected him critically.

“What the ‘ell is that jacket?”

“A fashion statement.”

“It states that you are a loon.” Gene said, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Can we just get this over with?”

“Not lookin’ forward to dinner? Missus is a snap in the kitchen, best meal you’ll have all year.”

“Can we just leave now?”

“Blue, though, good choice. She like blue. Almost as much as she likes green.”

“Right. Good. Ready?” Sam waved at the door and nearly fell down as Gene walked into him, grabbing his face with both hands and drawing him into a long, deep kiss. Sam grabbed for support and ended up holding onto Gene’s shoulders and damning himself for responding in kind, desperate for the contact and wallowing in the expert attentions of Gene Hunt’s mouth.

Gene pulled back, still clasping each side of Sam’s face. “Bloody gorgeous, you are. Blue suits yeh.” Gene dipped back down before Sam could collect his thoughts, and they were at it again. Gene pressed the advantage of surprise and pushed his tongue into Sam, persistent but not lewd. Their lips slid over each other, slick with spit and passion, but Gene’s tongue explored cautiously and than more than the heat of Gene’s body against him melted Sam’s defenses. He braced himself and gently pushed his hips forward until he felt Gene’s answering erection pressing back. Sam stalled, because it shocked him even though it obviously should not by that point and the mental conflict shut down all responses. Gene tensed up at Sam’s reaction. Taking a hint Sam did not consciously mean to give, Gene stepped backwards and straightened his jacket as if nothing was going on.

“Let’s go.” He turned and walked out, leaving Sam gasping and flustered in the flat. He took a moment to will his dick _down_ and then ran out after Gene. They drove to Gene’s house in silence, Gene smoking casually and Sam too stunned to comment on anything.

\---------

At the house, the dining table was already set and Sarah was moving smoothly between the kitchen and the dining room, while directing Gene like a drill sergeant about who sat where and how she wanted the lamb carved and that he needed to get up off his arse and help carry in the main course. He yelled back that his job was to make the drinks and she looked out the door of the kitchen with a withering glare that Gene ignored, sitting at the head of the table and sipping his whiskey, until Sam offered to carry the lamb in from the kitchen himself.

“Like ‘ell, that’s my job.” Gene nearly threw his drink down and got up to help with the food. Sam tried not to grin when Sarah winked at him.

It was a truly traditional dinner, and Gene had eyes for nothing but the roast leg of lamb that graced the middle of the table. It was complemented by mint sauce, roast potato, peas and gravy, and of course Yorkshire pudding. Sam fussed over the potatoes, which turned out to be flavored with fresh herbs and that derailed the entire conversation into a discussion about family recipes and kitchen tricks and Gene simply chewed and watched as Sam and Sarah talked all through dinner.

“Nice of you to join us,” Sarah cracked when Gene finished scraping his plate clean of seconds.

“You girls getting’ on fine without me.” Gene smiled and leaned back in his chair.

“I have asked, in the past, that you not insult our guests,” Sarah sighed dramatically.

“In the past, our guest was not an obnoxious DI trying to worm his way into my wife’s oven.”

Sam choked on his water but Sarah smiled. “Some men know where the action is, dear. Some men don’t.”

Gene glared at her as Sam continued choking. Sarah looked serenely at him. “Sugar?”

She got up and served a welcome dessert of black forest gateau. Sam was not even hungry anymore but shoveled the food into his mouth to stall conversation. Gene and Sarah continued to snipe at each other a bit but Sam tuned them out, smiled politely, and decided that vivisection was probably less painful than this. He made the mistake of watching Sarah eating the gateau for a few bites, her mouth slowly wrapping around the fork, and he used every trick in his experience as a stone-cold-hearted policeman to keep his blush and erection down. It worked, but not before he caught Gene smirking at him. Sam rolled his eyes and pushed more sugar into his system. By the time the plates were clean he thought he was vibrating at the cellular level from the head rush, and that was when Gene loudly declared that it was time for some manly drinks. He got up and Sam followed him to the living room, but stopped there.

“Shouldn’t we help…” He pointed back to the kitchen.

“The men sit here, Sam. The wife does the dishes.” Gene poured three drinks and left one on the small bar, obviously for Sarah to pick up when she was done in the kitchen.

“How incredibly sexist.” Sam shook his head and took the drink, far, far beyond his ability to put up a resistance to anything at this point. Gene ignored the comment and sat down on the couch with him. “Although since I’m not helping with the dishes, I suppose that is a tacit admission on your part that I am, in fact, a man.” Sam focused on the opposite wall, amused.

“I think your cock in my hand was proof enough.”

Sam stared at him in horror. “Gene, your _wife_…” Sam whispered, glancing towards the kitchen.

“Good woman, Sam. The best.” Gene said, sipping his drink comfortably.

“Erm…yeah.” Sam took a large drink from his glass, silently begging for mercy.

“Understands me. Keeps me happy.” Gene nodded in approval.

“And do you?”

“What?”

“…Keep her happy. Like she keeps you happy.”

Gene peered at him. “Yeah. Exactly the same.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Right. ‘Legendary prowess as a lover.’ Sorry I forgot.” He realized the delicacy of the statement a fraction too late, and blinked as he stared down Gene’s fierce, green eyes. Gene finished his drink without breaking his gaze, then shifted over, grabbed the front of Sam’s jacket and pulled him into a kiss. Sam beat him off.

“Gene! She’s right in there!” Sam whispered, hissing as he kept pushing Gene’s stubborn, grabby hands away.

“That she is, Sam.” He leaned in while Sam was still battling his hands and kissed him again. It was a hot, passionate sensation and Sam warred with himself about the lethal impropriety of snogging his same-sex boss in the boss’ living room with the boss’ wife in the kitchen. The matter was quickly settled for him.

“Gene!”

Sam scrambled backwards as if bitten by a snake, almost falling over the arm rest. Gene settled slowly and casually, watching him in amusement, then turned to Sarah.

“Yeah, love?”

She stood in the middle of the room with her arms crossed. “I thought I got him first tonight.”

Sam’s head snapped so hard he cracked his neck, and he stared at her in shock, but her gaze was fixed on Gene in displeasure.

“Warmin’ him up for yeh, love.”

“Like ‘ell, Eugene Franklin Hunt. You already did that the other week in the Cortina. My turn.”

“Oh. My. God.” Sam fell off the couch, and they both turned to look at him. “You…you…_told_ her?” He yelled as he pulled himself back up, unable to actually stand because he was stunned and his hard-on was still in evidence.

“Course I did. She’s me wife, Sam. Not right to go cheatin’ around on her.”

Sam worked his mouth like a guppy, but no sound came out. Sarah took pity.

“Sam, Gene’s been on my case about you for a while now. He don’ touch without my permission, he’s a good man.”

“Your…permission…”

“Genie, you sure about this?” Sarah peered at Sam, worried.

“No.” Gene slapped his thighs. “Guess not. Can’t figure that you wouldn’t want a taste of the cream, Sam, she’s a fine woman. She was certain you was makin’ a pass at her at the dinner party but…”

“No! Yes! I was! I mean, I was, yes, but that was highly inappropriate and…” Sam felt himself nodding a lot.

“Not like sucking off yer Guv on a stakeout, no, that’s by the book that is.” Gene frowned at him.

“Gene…please, it was just…”

“Genie, leave him alone. He’s rattled.” Sarah sighed, obviously disappointed. Sam closed his eyes.

“Can I just have another drink, please?” He asked, needing fortitude or dutch courage or just drunken oblivion at this point. There was a pause and then he felt Gene’s leg against his. He opened his eyes to a full glass in front of his face, Gene standing over him. When he took the glass, Gene walked away, his posture betraying nothing. He went and sat down in the large lounger which was obviously ‘Gene’s Chair’ and Sarah perched on his lap. Sam glanced at them as he drank, and they were a good looking couple, well matched in size and personality and, apparently, sexuality.

Sam smacked his lips. “So. This _was_ a date, then?”

“Summat like that, if you want to get all nancy about it,” Gene said, running his hand affectionately up and down Sarah’s back, and then down over her arse. It was clearly an absent minded gesture, something he probably did every time she sat on his lap. Sam’s brain immediately raced off to imagine her straddling Gene’s lap, naked, with both of Gene’s hands firmly on her arse and he quickly focused on his drink again. “Finish your drink, Sam. I’ll drive you home.”

Sarah sighed and leaned back into Gene’s body, pressing her face into his neck. “You got some nice lamb out of it.”

“That I did, and it was fine, love. Best ever.” Gene wrapped an arm around her waist. They both turned naturally and unselfconsciously to kiss, and it was the first time Sam had ever _seen_ Gene kiss and it looked as erotic as he knew it felt. He stared and he flushed and his hard on was not going away. The kiss ended and Sarah tucked back into Gene’s neck but Gene stared at him, then smiled. “Got yer horn up, Sammy Boy?”

“Oh God, Gene, please…” Sam looked away.

“’Ere, love, I think we got us a little perv on the couch, our own peeping’ Tom.”

Sarah looked at Gene and then looked at Sam, who flushed to bright scarlet and secretly hoped he would just spontaneously combust from embarrassment and spare himself a life of humiliation at Gene’s hands.

But neither Gene nor Sarah were looking at him anymore. They were kissing, hard and deep and passionately with an easy familiarity to the way their bodies fell together. Sam was torn between watching Gene’s hands grope at her rear end or her hand moving slowly down his front with an obvious destination. Gene tilted his head and nudged at her with his nose until she looked up at the ceiling, exposing her neck, and he went at it as if it was dessert, licking and nibbling. Sam’s hard-on thought this was excellent entertainment and throbbed with want and need, but Sam kept both hands locked around his drink.

She cooed in a soft, feminine way and then sighed. “Gene…” She tugged at his arms, and it was a signal to him as he pushed forward and rolled them both onto the floor. They lay side by side, caressing each other’s bodies, their moves sure and practiced. They knew what turned each other on and they did it, full mouth kissing and hands pushing. Sarah was stroking at Gene’s hard-on with the back of her hand, the diamond of her wedding ring scratching at the tightened fabric of his trousers and Sam’s mind nearly blanked out on imagining how that felt. Gene used one hand to clutch at her butt cheeks, manhandling them as if he was kneading dough and she groaned with every squeeze. Gene pushed her onto her back and sat up on his heels, opening his pants, revealing the familiar, dark red erection as he shoved his trousers down his thighs. She was dragging up her skirt and he reached under it, impatient, pulling her panties down and off as the skirt was drawn up all the way and Sam gazed in dazed rapture at her pussy, the hair trimmed neatly but covered in her juices. Sam licked his lips then tried to pull his thoughts back but it did not matter because neither Gene nor Sarah was looking at him, and he never felt more alone in his life. Gene fell forward and Sam’s eyes locked on the sight of Gene’s cock sinking into her until their bodies were pressed together and they groaned into each others’ mouths.

Sam tossed the empty glass aside and finally went for his own trousers, deciding that they were distracted enough with each other that they might not notice, and almost to the point of not caring if they did.

Her legs wrapped around Gene’s hips when he pushed into her, the muscles of his bare ass and upper thighs flexing in tension as he dragged himself out and plunged back in. She was panting, close to squealing, her hands clawing down his back. Gene lowered his head and bowed up so he could kiss her neck to her upper chest, and Sam’s heart nearly exploded as he watched Gene’s tongue trace the edge of her collar bone. She cried out Gene’s name and Gene set his legs further apart and started slamming into her, holding her down as she arched up to meet his thrusts. Gene was grunting like a wild boar, his hair in disarray as he pounded into her. Sam began fisting himself, impatient for release, jealous of Gene being inside a beautiful woman and jealous of Sarah for having a man like that on top of her and jealous of both of them for having each other while he sat alone on the couch. He slammed himself backwards, pushing his feet into the floor, not seeing or hearing anything but the couple lost in each other. He stroked hard and fast, thumbing over the head, and felt his orgasm hitting like a train as he gasped for air, trying to make it through the moment quietly.

Then he was looking into two sets of eyes, green and hazel, watching him, absorbing his every move as their bodies kept going instinctively at each other. It was too intense in the heat of the moment and Sam threw his head back, groaning loudly as he came, his hips finally gaining control and jerking hard has he released himself into a blinding pleasure. He lowered his head, still gasping for air, to watch Gene clutch up and roar into Sarah’s shoulder, his body shuddering as he spilled into her.

The silence was leaden for a moment, but Sam was too pleasured to move or worry. Gene slowly sat back on his heels again, and Sam studied his spent cock which was still swollen and dripping. Gene was looking down and seemed to be studying it as well. Sarah snorted and tossed down her skirt, getting up. She smoothed Gene’s hair back and kissed his forehead and walked over to Sam. He just looked at her, one hand still holding himself and wet and sticky. Smiling, she reached out and grabbed his tie, pulling him to his feet. He kept one hand holding his dick, trying not to dribble anything, and his other hand grasped his trousers to keep them up as she led him away to the stairs.

“Don’ forget to lock up,” she said sweetly as they walked past Gene, who had not moved. He looked up, smiling as Sam never saw him smiling outside of winning at darts, and just nodded at his wife.

Upstairs, Sarah stopped at the bathroom. “Wash up.”

Sam washed his hands and closed up his trousers self-consciously as she watched. When he was done she took his tie again and led him to the master bedroom. She stopped them in the middle of the room, then turned to face him. It was obvious what was supposed to happen next but even still, Sam was hesitant to snog his Guv’s wife, confused about what it meant and why _him_ and what was he supposed to do? She stepped in closer and Sam lost track of who did what but they were kissing, soft and slow, and Sam swore he could still taste Gene in her mouth. He pulled her closer, unable to get his cock up again this soon but wanting her close anyway and enjoying the lazy arousal. She was soft and flavorful and he angled his head to press in, but she pushed back, stepping away. He watched carefully as she undressed, stripping down to nothing, unashamed and smiling at him coyly, and when she finished she stepped forward into his arms again. Sam wondered if this was pre-arranged with Gene, if Gene was sleeping somewhere else or would be walking in at any moment, but those thoughts rattled randomly in his brain as he stroked the naked woman in his arms, massaging her breasts and drinking in her soft lips. She broke off to kiss his jaw and he slipped his tongue into her ear, tasting sweat and salt.

“Gene told me exactly what you did, in the car, on that stakeout…” she said, and Sam froze.

“That bother you?” Sam whispered, unsure of what to expect.

“No, love, not at all. I enjoy it too. I just was wondering how _much_ you enjoy it.”

Sam’s heart started pounding. He enjoyed it quite a bit, but Annie did not, and neither had Maya for all her 21st century ways. Sam landed on Sarah’s mouth and pushed her backwards towards the bed, walking them together. They got there and she sat down on the edge, but Sam kept pushing because he valued his knees. She stopped him with a hand to his chest, and slowly undid his tie, throwing it aside, and unbuttoned his shirt. Together they stripped it off of him and she went for his belt but he pushed back, forcing her to scoot all the way onto the bed, putting himself between her legs as he sprawled on his side. Her eyes were wide and excited and Sam smiled.

“He…do his job, then?”

“He did …but there’s more to be had, yeah?” She ran her fingers through his hair as he settled down to get comfortable. She grinned as his hand moved over her pussy, stroking and separating the folds of skin hiding her. “I think, _DI Tyler_, that your Guv just needs some backup.”

Sam laughed as he put his head down, smelling her, and then he realized that he was not smelling her, he was smelling _them_, and his hard on sprung back to life and he kicked his legs as he dived his tongue into her, licking her clit slowly as his fingers found her hole and slipped into the mix of her juices and Gene’s semen. She gasped and stretched out, and Sam closed his eyes to take in the sensation and taste and smell of _them_, wondering if Gene would find this disgusting or disturbing, and losing track of that thought as Sarah purred to his touch and his hard-on pressed against his trousers. He opened his eyes when her hips began moving rhythmically and her cries became more insistent, and he sucked harder on her clit. She groaned and he shifted to crouch on his knees, wrapping his arms around her thighs to hold her down when she started bucking.

“Sam…please…oh…oh God, Gene, Gene…”

Sam stuttered but she was too close to stop. He glanced around and saw Gene looking at them, standing next to the bed, naked, his own erection returned strong and hard. Crawling on the bed next to Sam, straddling one of her legs, he pushed his hand under them and shoved his fingers into her. Sam clutched at her thighs and teased her clit with his tongue as Gene pumped her, and Sam felt the hair of Gene’s arm rubbing on his chest and groaned. The vibration was the final trip wire and she came hard, digging her fingers into Sam’s scalp and crying out loudly, wordlessly, her voice rich and feminine and lost in her pleasure.

Both men sat back to watch her recover, petting her skin. Gene's other hand was laced with hers, bright pink from the pressure of her squeezing it when she came, his thumb rubbing her palm slowly.

“Most beautiful thing in the world, that is…watching her like that.” Gene said calmly, his hands on his thighs as he exchanged looks with Sarah, as if he did not have a raging hard on between his legs.

“Beautiful.” Sam nodded, agreeing, and she smiled back at him in a dazed, messy way. He grinned at her, forgetting where he was or who he was with or how awful life would be tomorrow because of this. Gene moved and Sam looked at him, startled, only to find Gene’s mouth over his and hands drifting to his trousers, ghosting over his trapped erection before landing on his belt and zip. Sam snogged for his life, bracing his hands on Gene's shoulders and letting Gene handle the work of undressing him. Gene broke the kiss by sucking on Sam's lower lip, slowly releasing it, then turned to Sarah with his hands down Sam's trousers.

“You ready, then, love? Not sore?”

“No, Gene.” She laughed softly. “You done worse.”

Gene pushed Sam off the bed and stripped him of the rest of his clothes. “Gene…”

“What do you want?” Gene asked, rubbing Sam’s shoulders with a surprising gentleness to his touch. Sam was not sure what to answer, because he was not really certain of the question. He shook his head and said the first thing he thought of.

“I don’t want to lose my job.”

Gene laughed so hard he had to sit down, and Sam moved a few steps away, more embarrassed than before. Gene looked at Sarah. “Told you the boy was daft.”

“Gene, I just…this is a bit strange, and…she’s your _wife_ and I’ve already gone far enough…” Sam shook his head again.

“I asked you what you want. Still waitin’ on an answer.” Gene reached out and wrapped his hand around Sam’s erection, knocking the wind out of him, then stood up, still holding Sam’s cock, and leaned into his ear. “You want this? Her? Me? You’re naked in my bedroom and hope for your sake you ain’t a tease, because from where I’m standing there is only one way to go but you got to want it, Sam. All of it.” Gene released him and stepped back.

Sam stared at him, surprised with himself, as Gene and Sarah both looked at him critically. They did not move, though, just waited while he stood there naked and feeling lost, because he realized that what he wanted was the one thing they were not putting on the plate. He craved for his body to rest against theirs as comfortably as they did with each other. He wanted their desire and need for him to be tempered by affection, and even more than that he wanted them to accept the same from him. He was never a man afraid of saying the words ‘I love you’ but now he lived in terror of those words being rejected…of being peripheral to something better than he would ever have himself.

Yet, all that he had was here, in this moment, and to turn away from this now was more than his heated mind could accept. He stepped to the bed and let Sarah take his hand to lead him down. She shifted back and over, pushing him up against the headboard, and shoved his legs apart with less ceremony than she served the lamb earlier. Sam watched her, knowing his gaze was somewhat critical, as she kneeled down and lowered her head to his groin. He waited for the sensation but it did not start. Instead, she tipped her face away from his cock and buried her nose in the crease of his hip, smelling him deeply. Sam’s eyebrows shot up and he heard Gene chuckling next to the bed.

“Little perv. Next you’ll steal his pants.”

She smiled and rubbed her cheek against Sam’s cock, and he hissed in reaction to the heat, but she did not linger. She kissed up to his navel and slid her tongue into the small hollow. He groaned in surprise, not really considering that an erotic zone before, and felt his cock twitch as he watched her tongue fuck his skin.

“Oh my god…” Sam gasped, and looked over at Gene, who was stroking himself slowly next to the bed, one hand resting on the headboard for support.

“Oh, love, you’re beautiful,” Gene said, leaning over to take Sam’s mouth. For a brief moment as their lips met, Sam wondered if Gene was talking to him or Sarah, but chastised himself for it. Sarah was Gene’s love; Sam was…lover? Fuck buddy? One night stand? Or…

“Sam.”

Sam realized that both Gene and Sarah had stopped everything and were looking at him.

“You think too much.” Gene snorted and laid into another kiss, this time heavy and deep, and Sam’s arms rose up instinctively to start caressing Gene’s shoulders. He ran one hand down the arm Gene was using on himself until both of their hands wrapped around Gene’s cock and pumping him softly. Gene groaned into his mouth and shivered, but Sam did not let go. Sarah was on the move again, kissing and licking back down but still avoiding Sam’s cock, dipping deeper to his ball sac. She took one into her mouth gently and tongued all around the weight of it. Sam broke off for air.

“Sarah, damnit, come on. God!” Sam moved his free hand to her head and tried to push. She laughed.

“Yeah, yeah…oh, Sam…” She sighed as she placed the tip of his cock in her mouth, and he nearly dissolved with joy. He barely felt Gene move away from him as Sarah’s mouth worked its way down his cock, slowly absorbing the shaft into her mouth. Halfway down, she pulled up, and Sam clutched at her hair.

“No no no no no….” He pushed her back down and she went, taking him in, breathing heavily and gulping. “Oh thank god, yes!” He leaned his head against the wall and sighed happily as she began a slow, steady rhythm of sucking and licking and swallowing. She was fantastic at this, and Sam had a few mind-bending blowjobs in his life and he knew a good one when it started.

The bed gave and shifted and Sam pulled up, knowing he looked dazed and feeling utterly euphoric as he watched Gene settle behind Sarah. He felt a twang of disappointment there, but decided perhaps that was some kind of boundary for Gene, to keep Sarah between them. At least for now, or so he hoped, and in the meantime Sam could not complain about Sarah’s attentions to his…

“FUCK!” He bounced and made a grab for the bed sheets when her finger slid over his arse hole. She stopped and looked at him, but he shook his head. “No no, it’s okay, it’s good. Good, god, it’s fantastic.” He thrust a little in her face and Gene laughed.

She smiled as her finger brushed over the sensitized opening, then pushed in up to the first knuckle. Sam drew in a shuddering gasp and bounced again, uncertain if his cock was trying to get back in her mouth or if his ass was trying to impale him on her finger. Whichever -- he decided it worked for him either way.

“Oh, Gene was right, you _are_ beautiful!” Sarah said quickly before lowering her head into his lap again. His heart fluttered foolishly at the words. He knew it was all in the heat of the moment and nothing to take seriously but knowing that Gene talked about him to her turned him on, gave him some kind of hope in this, and he moaned her name as she stroked him with her mouth and finger. She was inside him now, pushing in counterpoint to the thrusts he was making into her mouth, and Sam was nearly delirious. He felt fingers across his jaw and opened his eyes, looking up at Gene.

Gene was fucking her, slowly and steadily, one hand on her hip to hold her down, but his eyes were locked on Sam and his fingers trailed over his face into his mouth. Sam closed his eyes again and began sucking in time with Sarah’s own efforts, and it was some kind of closed circle with Gene inside both of them and Sarah inside of him and his cock in her mouth and Sam’s body began quivering. He tried with one hand to pull Sarah off when he felt it starting, but she fought him, and Gene’s hand covering his mouth and jaw as he finger fucked him. Sam came with a muffled roar. Everything blinked out of existence and it was just warm skin, warm mouth, warm cum and Sam opened his eyes, feeling fucked out and grateful.

Sarah’s face was still in his lap, although now it was shoved into his thigh with her hands curled around his hips for traction. Gene was moving more slowly than he had with her on the floor downstairs, and his eyes were open, gazing at Sam in concentration, but his thrusts were powerful and deep and he came within seconds with a floor-shaking, wordless groan.

Sarah shoved up and sprawled over Sam, kissing him passionately, and he enjoyed the sour taste of himself on her tongue. Gene slapped her arse and she giggled very much like a schoolgirl before crawling out of bed. Gene dropped forward, laying down almost on top of Sam, and wrapped his arms around him. He drew them close together, then bit his ear. Sam squawked.

“Shh, jus’ seeing if you were still alive. You alright, then?”

“Oh, God, you have to ask?”

“Got my DI lying naked in my arms after screwing me own wife onto his cock…some men might take exception to that.” Gene sniffed.

“I think you know I’m not one of those men.” Sam said, pressing back to feel every inch of Gene that he could, while he could. Sam wanted to ask if they did this often, and who with, and if he was going to be asked back, but those questions sounded immature and insecure and he did not want to come across that way. Instead he stayed still, letting Gene hold him, petting Gene’s arm.

Sarah came back in from the bathroom, where she had cleaned up but not rinsed off. Sam watched her as she turned off the light and crawled into bed, reeking of sweat and sex and it was a musky, intoxicating smell that promised a full, busy morning when they woke up.

“’Ope you don’ mind, Sammy, but we don’ shower until morning.”

“Like it or not, Tyler, the wife’s rules are to be followed.” Gene gently pushed Sam away and Sarah settled in between them. Sam laughed lightly and rolled into her, laying an arm over her waist, and she kissed him softly. Gene laid his arm down in the same way but his hand ended on Sam’s hip. “G’night, my loves.” Gene grunted and Sam did not quite know what to say to that.

Sarah fell asleep quickly between the two men, and it seemed that Gene dozed off just as fast, but Sam was not as lucky. He lay awake, looking at them both in the dim light and worrying about tomorrow, when he would get dressed and leave and they would have each other and he would sleep alone again. Their bodies rested together naturally, no awkwardness to arms or legs, the result of years spent here, in bed, together, and even as Sam rested his head on her shoulder and felt Gene's hand stroking his thigh right before he fell asleep, Sam knew he did not belong in this equation. He believed that Gene would keep this out of their working relationship, as much as Sam in any case. He was not, ironically and surprisingly, worried about his job. It was the rest of his life that bothered him.

After a while he gave up, snuck out of the bed, gathered his clothes and dressed in the hallway. He knew it would be a long walk back to his flat but he looked forward to it, even as tired as he was, as a way to clear his head which was spinning. When he finally made it he collapsed filthy and fully dressed on his familiar cot and welcomed the oblivion of exhaustion. What ever happened, it was over now, and he tried to convince himself that it did not matter, and meant nothing, because that was exactly what Gene and Sarah thought of it. Sam remembered how they talked to each other when he was between them, when all he really wanted was for either of them to just say _his_ name. He was as much a toy to them as any store-bought dildo, and he caustically reminded himself that he was a fool to expect anything more out of a good lay.

Sam knew he was just playing mind games as he drifted to sleep, though, because what he felt did matter, and meant a lot, and he was just priming himself for getting his heart ripped to shreds in the morning.

\------------

Sam woke up to the sound of his head smacking against the floor. He looked up as his vision cleared to see Gene looming over him, and whatever else floated through his dazed mind shrank in comparison to the awareness that Gene was ready to kill him.

“Got yer fill?” Gene advanced around the bed, and Sam scrambled.

“Piss off! It was your idea!”

“You didn’t exactly fight us off.” Gene stepped forward and the fight began, Gene throwing a punch that Sam barely avoided by almost falling backwards. It was a dirty fight, unpleasant but not quite as brutal as Sam expected, even in his half-asleep state. Gene was not holding back, he just was not as enraged as Sam thought he would be. Nonetheless it was down to a brawl and they traded blows and badly-aimed kicks. Finally, Sam lost when his thigh cracked into the frame of the cot as he fell down, collapsing the bed completely. Sam yelled in pain, thrashing among the wreckage, but kept fighting as Gene grabbed for him.

“Stop! Stop!” Gene shook him and Sam’s teeth rattled.

“Let go!” Sam kicked Gene off him. Gene fell back and sat on the floor, simmering, but mostly done.

“Say what you got to say.”

“You broke into MY flat! I got nothin’ to say!” Sam roared, crawling out of the remains of the cot.

“Bullshit! Else why did you sneak off in the dead of night? Guilty conscious! Coward, too afraid to say to my face what yer thinkin’!”

“WHAT do you care what I think? Didn’ stop you last night!” Sam shuffled over to sit with his back to the wall, rubbing his chest.

“You wanted it.” Gene snarled, jutting out his chin.

“Yeah, okay, I did. But not like that.”

Gene frowned. “You wanted to be on top?”

“NO! I’m not talking about positions!”

Gene rolled his eyes and shrugged. “Then what?”

Sam stalled, not too sure how to say ‘I love you and you don’t love or need me so fuck off’ without sounding like a foul mouthed Mills &amp; Boon novel, which made him feel even worse. Still, it was Gene, and if nothing else the best default setting between them was raw, angry truth and by god, Sam was angry and the fight had done little to temper that.

“You USED me, you son of a bitch!”

“You got off. You seemed happy enough with the shagging up to the point you _snuck out_ like a damn thief.”

“What does it matter? I was just a trick, so if I left early or later what does it matter? Just cheaper than a rent boy!”

“I don’ remember you arguing. I don’ remember paying you. I _don’t remember_ kickin’ you out of bed after!” Gene spoke coldly, and folded his arms.

Furious beyond reason, Sam stood up. “Fine. Five pounds. For a night of service.”

Gene pursed his lips. “_Cheaper_ than a rent boy? That's bloody highway robbery.”

Sam turned and kicked the wall before facing him again. “Non-negotiable.”

Gene looked up at him and leaned back on his hands, stretching his legs out in front of him. Sam waited in the long pause, “What do you want from me, Sam?”

Sam shook his head. “Five pounds.”

“Bullshit. You’re upset because you think we used you like a prozzie. That’s why you got up in the middle of the night and disappeared. Yer feelings were hurt and instead of being a man and facing up to it you ran off.”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Because discussing our emotions is what real men do, after all.”

“You are such a bleedin’ girl, I thought you moaning about yer feelings would come natural to you.”

“You know what? Piss off.”

“I didn’ come by here on me own. The missus sent me, and I won’t eat solid food for weeks if I don’t bring you home with me.” Gene sighed heavily. “My life, to be caught between two soppy girls, and one of ‘em’s named Sam.”

“I mean it! Piss off!”

“...Sarah was in a fit. Thought you didn’t like her. That she made you mad. She’s too old. Don’t like her hair style. Five thousand bloody reasons why ‘Sam Tyler doesn’t want Sarah Hunt’ an’ I heard every damn one of them before I got me shoes on. Be a heartless bastard if you want, but Sarah’s MY wife and I won’t let you play these games with her.”

“I will live the rest of my life in peace if I never see her again!” Sam hissed, furious at what he said and regretting it but assuming it was for the best, for himself if not them. He was not going to play ‘boy toy’ to their sex life. Once was enough.

Gene looked genuinely shocked. “You fuckin’ manipulative bastard.”

Sam shook his head, but Gene stood up, the expression on his face hard and stricken, and Sam was reminded of Gene’s showdown with Harry Woolfe. It was the same look of betrayal, but Sam was done with the games and refused to take the bait. He stared at Gene, trying to hold the anger and pain in his eyes. Gene pointed at him accusingly.

“Said that if you cared, you’d stay to talk about it. You didn’t, and now she thinks YOU think she’s a tart. Real blow to her, it was.” Gene glared at him malevolently. “So you tell me straight. What you said about never seeing her again: you mean it? ‘Cause if I got to take that news back to the house, I’ll be eating ‘oops for the next two months.”

Sam stalled, because he did NOT mean it, ever, and Gene saw his indecision. They both knew what he said next was a bald face lie.

“I meant it. Both of you. Piss off.” Sam pulled up his knees and rested his head on his arms. Gene stormed out, leaving the door open.

It was Saturday and Gene was off for the weekend. Being second in command meant that Sam was left steering the ship, and he was genuinely glad of being able to get back into the groove of his job without Gene around. He showered quickly and freshened up and was only thirty minutes late, as Ray very loudly pointed out. Sam resolutely refused to discuss how dinner went, so the entire team decided that it was a disaster (much to Ray’s delight) and talked about nothing else, at least when Sam was around. He shoved off the curiosity and tried not to remember _anything_. It was fantastic sex, some of the best in his life, and his libido was anxiously awaiting the next round, but Sam wanted more than meaningless encounters – he could get that at any club or bar in town, straight or gay. The fact he hated to admit and which his libido did not give a damn about was his genuine feelings for the other two people involved. He knew working with Gene was going to be difficult for that reason alone. He was very glad that the chances of him spending any time with Sarah were slim, though. A far, far too slippery a slope…and with those words his imagination tripped happily down slippery paths sloping to a hot, wet, explosive end, and then he was back in the bogs, wanking off, trying to pretend he did not need to. Never before was Sam more tempted to dip into Gene’s whisky stash at the office, but he held off until quitting time. He practically ran to the pub, bought a bottle of whisky to take home and tripped over himself trying to open both the bottle and his door at the same time. He needed a break from his brain and his libido and, generally speaking, his life.

His drinking skills improved in the 70s and he was halfway way through the bottle and it was well into the dark of night by the time he realized two things. First, he was drunk. Second, he was lonely.

_Gene._

Sam clambered out of bed and put his boots on and stumbled getting his jacket on, thinking that the walk was a long one so he needed to take his bottle with him. For warmth. He thought about Sarah, but tried not to, as he walked. He barely knew her – she was more alluring as Gene’s wife than as an individual, but still, there could be more there. Could be anything. He needed to talk to Gene.

Sam stood by the door, knocking loudly, thinking of what he was going to do if anyone answered. It was always at the most critical moments like this, when it was too late to turn back, that Sam’s common sense kicked in and he got second thoughts on the wisdom of his actions. He knew that for a man with a reputation for methodical, logical choices based on solid evidence, he had a long history of making snap decisions and he wondered, as he continued to knock in what was surely an obnoxious attack on the door, if he was more like Gene from the start. If maybe he always followed his gut instincts but just never admitted it before jumping…

…off a roof.

Sam stopped and stared at his fist. He choose to be here, with Gene. Somehow it was always about Gene, in a way, and Sam could be back at his office with his iPod on ‘shuffle’ and texting his DI with test results. He really, really missed his Playstation -- God save him from a future of Pong. But Gene was _here_, so Sam was here, and it was really just that simple.

“I swear on Mum’s grave, Gene Hunt, if you lost yer damn keys again you are sleepin’ on the bleedin’ stoop!”

Sam looked up from his fist as the door was unlocked and unbolted and opened, and Sarah appeared. Now Sam understood why Gene took to crashing in an uncomfortable chair at Sam’s flat when he was unduly pissed, because she stood in the doorway, backlit by the hall light, glaring at him like a dragon lady and Sam thought he saw steam curling out of her nose. He stepped backwards and stumbled.

“Oi, Christ, it’s you.” She put her hands on her hips and inspected him critically, and Sam was gripped by the panicked urge to make sure his shirt was tucked in and his hair combed. “Well get in here, then.” She stepped back.

Sam did not move, and felt himself weaving slightly in confusion.

“I don’ want to hose you off the stoop in the mornin’. Get in here!” She pointed, and Sam fell forward, stumbling into the house. He stood in the hall, trying to remember the brilliant idea that brought him here, as Sarah pushed past him. “Yer pissed. C’mon, I’ll make some tea to wake you up.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Sam stood still, frozen to the spot, as he watched her disappear into the kitchen.

“Get in here!” She hollered and Sam crashed forward again. He stood at the kitchen door as she bustled around, fussing. “Men…never got sense, sun goes down they get stupid…Mum always said…I knew better! Oh bloody hell, Gene, where did you put the sugar bowl this time?” She slammed cabinet doors and looked inside pots and pans and finally found it on top of the refrigerator. Sam frowned, and she shrugged.

“You try livin’ with a tall man. He always stacks his shoes on the top shelf of the closet.”

Sam tried to imagine the logic of that and failed. He shrugged and stepped carefully into the room, still well into his drunk, and leaned against the refrigerator for support. Sarah glared at him out of the corner of her eye, but did not say anything. Sam tried to collect his thoughts but it was like herding cats and he just stood there, watching, remembering what he liked about her body so much. Soft, solid, strong, graceful…yes, he liked that a lot and part of his mind happily danced along the rose strewn path forged by his libido.

“So why are you here, DI Tyler?” She asked, putting cups onto the dinette table and a stone wall onto the rose strewn path.

“Sam.”

She raised her eyebrows at him.

“C’mon, you called me Sam once. Please.” Sam closed his eyes and rested his head against the cool door of the fridge.

“Thought we should keep things a bit more formal than that,” she said brusquely.

Sam shook his head, feeling stupid for being there. He knew better. “I should go.”

“Still don’ know why you’re here in the first place.”

“Gene…”

“Oi, he tell you to come by here? That why he’s late? Givin’ you a chance to apologize?” Sarah snarled and crossed her arms, glaring maliciously at the kettle on the stove that was nowhere near boiling yet.

“Apologize? For what?” Sam snapped up, angry.

“For what? For what you did!”

“What I did? What?” Sam shook his head. “I was just going along…”

“Fightin’ us every step of the way, yeah, I noticed!”

“YOU seduced ME!”

“YOU walked out on US!”

They both stopped, staring at each other. Sam put his hands on his hips and stared at the floor.

“I had to get out. I…it hurt too much.”

“I hurt you?” She eyed his body critically.

“No! No, not like that, god. You’re as bad as he is.”

She shrugged. “You walked out. Like it was…nothin’. Gene said you probably do it all the time. Fuck and run. He came back from your place this mornin’ and said that. Wouldn’t tell me nothin’ else.”

“I don’t…oh, god, I’m not like that. Does he really think…?” Sam stalled, appalled by the idea that Gene thought he was a slut, and that Gene would say as much to Sarah. It hurt, and he just closed his mouth and focused on the print of Big Ben on the opposite wall. They remained quiet until the kettle boiled and Sarah made a small pot of tea, then set it on the table. She motioned for him to sit down with her and they paused for a few seconds to pour. Sam sipped the tea and looked at her over the rim of the cup.

“What happened last night, Sarah?”

She sighed and leaned back in the chair. “It was Gene’s idea. He’s been going on about you since the first day you showed up. I wasn’ keen…we’ve tried before, a couple of times, but it never works out. Gene’s…intense. And I’m picky. When I finally met you, I tol’ him, yeah. It might work. He was so…happy.” She sighed and Sam thought she looked devastated in that quiet moment as she stopped to think. “Like a kid at Christmas, when he finally got you to come over for dinner. He was so excited, all frisky…”

“And you?” Sam stirred his tea.

“Nervous. A bit. I mean, what if you was just, bein’ nice? Flirtin’ and all? Maybe you wouldn’t…well you did, I guess.” She shrugged.

“I wanted to. Believe me.”

She smiled at him, the first smile she gave him since he got there. “Really? I mean…both?”

“Yeah. Ummm…not somethin’ I’d normally admit.” He sat back, smiling at her in turn, holding his tea close.

Then she looked down again. “But you left. You just…left. Oh god he was so mad. And I though maybe I was right, you know, not something you wanted, just flirtin’ that got out of hand. Gene said it was your job to come back, to tell us what happened, but I knew you wouldn’t, I mean…girls, we know these things about men. So I sent him.”

“He showed up like he hated me. Bad fight, bad. I said things just to get him out the door.” Sam rolled his eyes.

She stared at him, squinting. “Oh god, Gene’s right, you are a _girl_.”

“He should talk!” Sam snapped.

Sarah threw back her head and laughed, and she was transformed in that instant into a woman full of mirth and Sam felt so happy to be there, he could not help but grin. She lowered her head, shaking it, and snorted. “Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you here, tonight? If Gene didn’t…invite you?”

Sam pursed his lips, surprisingly glad that Gene was not there. “I was…lonely.”

Sarah put down her cup and just looked at him, waiting for him to continue. He took a deep breath.

“I’m NOT like that. I don’ ‘fuck and run’, never have. You two have been married a long time and it did not feel right just crashing into that, even if it was by invitation. But I got nothin’ else, Sarah. Nothing else has worked. Annie and I…just not really meant to be.” He took another deep breath. “All I want is belong but I don’t. I know that, I’m not asking anythin’ from you, but this morning Gene was just a bastard and work was terrible and my flat smells funny…hell, this isn’t making any sense.”

Sarah shook her head. “No, it ain’t.”

Sam laughed. “Let’s jus’ leave it at ‘I was lonely.’”

“So you came here? Not the pub, not out somewhere…here?”

“Where else would I go?” Sam did not look at her. He put down his cup and rubbed his face, and they sat in silence a while.

“We got a guest bed. Think you should crash there, you’re a bit beat up for wandering the streets at this hour.” She rose and began clearing away the dishes. He stood up and when she came back to the dinette, she reached out and petted his arm. He did not second guess her motive or his own, he just blinked at her in surprise and then pulled her into his body. He stood with his arms wrapped around her, his head bowed down so he could nuzzle her neck. She sighed and returned the embrace.

“This is all I need, Sarah, please, don’t leave me alone.” He squeezed her lightly as he spoke.

“Sam, I can’t…Gene’s not here, he’s still mad at you.”

Sam let go and stepped back, nodding. “Yeah, of course. The guest bedroom is…?” He pointed vaguely towards the stairs in the hall.

“Second door on your left. Should be open. You go on…I’ll wait up for Gene.”

Sam nodded and managed not to stumble as he climbed the stairs and made it into the bedroom. He did not remember falling into the bed.

\----------

“SARAAAAAAH!!!!!”

Sam sat bolt upright at the noise, wondering why Gene had come over to his flat to yell at his wife. Then he saw the chintz drapes, and remembered where he was. He squinted as he looked at the doorway, where Gene stood, tucking his shirt in, breathing fury. Sam stole a careful look at himself to make sure he was dressed and ready to be physically thrown out of the house.

“Gene!” Sarah walked up behind him.

“What is this TART doing in our house?” Gene yelled at her, and Sam swung his legs off the bed to come to Sarah’s defense.

“Don’t you DARE take that tone of voice with me, Eugene Hunt! Falling down drunk in yer own living room at two in the morning! Breakin’ mum’s vase! You are lucky I feel asleep waiting up for you!” Sarah stepped up and poked Gene in the chest. “You’d KNOW what’s going on if you got home at a decent hour, but NO! You stay out all night crying in your bitters and…”

“I WAS NOT CRYING, Woman! It was darts!”

“DARTS DON’T GO TO TWO!”

“YES THEY BLOODY WELL DO!”

“NO! THEY DON’T!”

“THEY DO!”

“Would you two shut the ‘ell up? I’ve got a headache.” Sam sat back down on the bed, holding his head in misery.

“What are you doing here, Tyler? Come to make my missus cry again?”

“Jus’ leaving…” Sam stood up again, figuring this was all for a loss and hoping to get out undamaged, but Gene shoved him backwards. Sam glared at him. “You want me here or not?”

“I do,” Sarah said from the doorway.

“Be quiet, woman!”

“Jus’ sayin’…”

“WOMAN!”

“Stop yelling at her. It’s me your mad at.”

“Damn right! You got balls showing up here now, Tyler.”

“Sam.”

“What?”

“Sam. My name.”

“Yer name is dog shite in this house.”

Sam nodded, feeling sour and pissy. “See, that’s why I came here, to be insulted and put down. I think it _is_ better when you don’t say anything. I’ll be leaving now.”

“Better to say nothing than to say what you don’t mean,” Gene said, his eyes narrow, and glancing over at Sarah. She frowned.

“I did not mean what I said, Gene, and you know it.” Sam put his hands in his pockets and stared Gene down.

“But you said it.” Gene studied him for a long moment, then turned to his wife. “Out.”

“What? No! I…” Sarah stumbled as Gene shoved her out the door and closed it on her. He turned back to Sam.

“Care to revise that statement?”

Sam knew what statement he was talking about. “What do you think? I was so glad to see her last night…and…” Sam shrugged, at a loss. “She’s a good person.”

“No. She’s not a ‘person’ she’s me wife and one of the finest women I’ve ever ‘ad the honor to know. As which I could say the same about you.” Gene frowned at him.

“I do not want to be one of the finest women you know.”

“You know what I meant!” Gene shifted angrily on his feet.

“I know you said it’s better to say nothing than to say what you don’t mean. That why you kept me in the dark? That why you played games? Don’t want me to know I’m just your rent boy?”

“YOU don’t know when to shut up!”

“So what was that, then? If it wasn’t a one night stand?”

Gene blew out a huge breath of air, and looked at Sam in amazement. “Christ, Sam, I thought you knew. What I got to do, get down on me knees?”

Sam shook his head. “I don’t want a blowjob.”

“Jesus Christ, that’s not what I meant.”

“THEN SAY WHAT YOU FUCKING MEAN!” Sam yelled.

“This. Us. Jesus…” Gene hand waved between them, looking at the floor, shaking his head. “Can’t ask you to move in. Can’t walk you down the damn aisle or let you take Sarah out on a date. Can’t be that way. It’s what it was, all it can be. You and me, we’re good.” He snorted and rolled his eyes and Sam peered at him. “I thought we were good, you’re willing to put out and all. You’re no slut, Sam, I know what it means. So Sarah wanted you too and…the last time we tried this, it went pear shaped, in a bad way, wanted her to run off with him. Not the deal. It’s both or nothing. Now you can take that, and live with it, or you can shove off. But that’s your choice, Sam.”

Sam stalled as his words sunk in. “Are you asking me to be in a ménage a tois _relationship_ with you?”

“You don’t have to make it all French.”

“You know what I mean.”

“For once.”

“…You, Sarah, and me. Friday dinner every week. Anniversaries and birthdays. Vacations?”

“Not so easy, but can be arranged.”

“How do you feel about me?”

“You great girl.” Gene rolled his eyes.

“Honest question.”

Gene walked over and embraced him. It was, in some ways, a manly, friendly hug, not erotic or sexy, simply Gene pulling Sam in close. "I swear I thought you knew.”

“I’m not a damn mind reader.” Sam laid his cheek against Gene’s neck, feeling his pulse. “If you don’t say…”

“Damnit, Sam, don' you remember?" He spoke casually into Sam’s ear as they hugged. “My love...you are beautiful…” He whispered the last and relaxed so that their heads rested together.

Sam didn’t know what to answer to such an open admission as that, so tilted his head to gently kiss Gene’s neck. A short, chaste kiss, but he felt Gene relax in his arms even more.

“I don’ say what I don’ mean, Sam, and you should bloody well know that by now. You go haring off with half baked ideas and no proof and…”

“And I’ll make DCI someday.”

Gene laughed, then quickly spun him around and slapped his arse so hard Sam spilled forward. “Right. Now it’s all straightened out, time for you to call sick in to work. We've got other plans.” He walked past Sam and opened the door to an empty hallway. Gene looked it up and down . “SARAAAAAAHHH!”

“SHUT IT I’M COOKING!” The shout drifted up from the kitchen.

Gene shrugged and walked back to Sam, who once again was not entirely sure who started it but they were kissing, and it was not lovely or sweet because Gene needed something and he went for it, tearing into Sam’s mouth. One hand went to the back of Sam’s head and held it still as Gene pushed his tongue between Sam’s lips. They wrestled together, arms shifting over each other for dominance, and for Sam it was always a losing battle but one worth fighting. He barely noticed in his rush to reach Gene’s tonsils that Gene’s hands were under his shirt, stroking his back, until the heated sensations knocked his brain sideways. He gasped and Gene pulled him closer.

“Ahem.”

Both men broke to look at Sarah, who was glaring at them from the doorway. Sam started to squirm backwards, but Gene’s arms locked down.

“You still mad about the vase?”

“My mum’s.”

“Sorry, love, I was a bit…”

“Pissed! Off yer arse drunk and knockin’ over furniture and you broke my mum’s vase!”

Gene blinked, thinking, probably trying to remember, then shook Sam in his arms. “But look what else I got you.”

Her expression softened and she smiled at Gene while Sam felt like a Christmas puppy missing a big red bow. “No, boy, he’s yours.”

“Um…” Sam tried to break in but Gene talked over him.

“Share and share alike, I always say.” Gene smiled at his wife triumphantly.

“Um…”

“I know, but you’ve waited so long, and I think he came here looking for you last night anyway,” Sarah said wistfully, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

“NO, I DIDN’T.”

Gene looked at him, surprised. “Then why?”

“Well, yes, maybe I did…look, I just wanted to be here.” Sam lowered his arms and looked at Sarah, but Gene did not let go.

“A good place to be.” She smiled and cocked her head, looking at him as if she was afraid he would bolt. “But only if you want. Running off…that didn’t work so good.”

“No, no it didn’t. But neither did your secret machinations.”

“Machinations? Christ…” Gene sighed heavily. “Try to set up a good lay and…”

Sarah talked over him, frowning. “Maybe we weren’t quite as…forthcoming…as…”

“Damn straight you weren’t.” Sam snapped, and gasped as Gene squeezed him disapprovingly. “Back off.” Sam pushed him away. They glared at each other until Sarah broke in.

“Yeah, so everyone screwed up. But Sam, you got to be happy here, with us, or it won’t work.”

“Not too happy, can’t have you swishin’ all over CID like the pretty gay boy you are.”

“Gene…” Sam and Sarah spoke together and Gene raised his eyebrows in false innocence.

“Just be sure, Sam, because we are.” Sarah played with the hem of her robe’s sleeve, then glanced up at them. “I’ll be back with some food.” She turned and walked out. Sam started to follow but Gene grabbed him back into his embrace and held him still. He looked at him for a second, waiting for something.

“I mean it, Gene. I want to be here. I'm staying.”

Gene nodded. “Good.” He kissed Sam and started walking him out of the room, down the hall.

“Gene…” Sam tried to talk in between walking kisses. “…Gene, I do care about Sarah a lot…”

“Good. We’re swapping spit now, okay?” Gene began sucking on his tongue.

“Ummphh...pffft...right…just…I don’t want to get in between you two, ruin your marriage…” Sam gasped for air.

“Won’t let ya. Anyway it’s your turn to be in the middle.”

“Oh.” Sam felt himself being spun around as they entered the bedroom and Gene essentially frog marched him to the bed. “Where’s Sarah?”

“Sam, yer talking too much and wearing too many clothes.”

Sam turned to see Gene stripping down hastily, eyeing him.

“I think I really need to call out from work.”

"Later." Gene dropped out of his trousers gracefully and stepped forward, a heavy hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam looked down and in the next second was pushed to his knees, face to face with Gene's throbbing cock and it did not take advanced guesswork to figure out what Gene wanted. "Time to make up to the Gene Genie, show him yer regrets." Gene slapped his dick against Sam's cheek and when Sam opened his mouth to protest, found it full of Gene. He gave up and tongued the underside of the head, rubbing it slowly as he gently closed his lips into a tight seal and began sucking. "Bloody 'ell, maybe I do owe you a couple of pounds..."

Sam bit hard enough to stop Gene from breathing.

"Bitch. Fine. Five pounds flat...now get to it..." Gene placed his hands on the back of Sam's head and pushed his hips, shoving his cock hard in retaliation. Sam was not an expert at deep throat technique and tried not to gag, grabbing the base of Gene's cock with one hand to help hold it back. They finally reached an accord on the 'depth of penetration issue' and Sam began to focus on what he was doing, tonguing along the length and lightly scraping with his teeth. Gene loomed over him, naked and panting, and Sam drew in a deep breath through his nose to absorb the smells of Gene: sweat, tobacco, musk and something sweet. He guessed sherbet, and smiled around Gene’s cock. Hands held the sides of his head and face carefully and Gene stroked in and out, fucking his face but gently, lovingly, and Sam felt Gene’s thumbs petting his cheekbones.

“Beautiful…” Gene sighed. Sam felt the mix of drool and pre-cum leaking out the side of his mouth but did not stop to clean up, just let it drip off his chin as he kept at his, lips kissing his fist as Gene thrust forward.   
He glanced up as he drew back in a long, steady stroke to see Gene looking down at him. He was aroused, but also amused or, Sam realized in shock, just plain happy. He expected Gene to grin and say “ta!”

“Breakie!...oh.” Sarah walked in with a tray of food and cups of tea. Sam pulled off quickly, unsure of etiquette or reaction. “Is the penitent forgiven?” Sarah asked as Sam wiped his mouth his with sleeve, trying not to focus on the bobbing cock in his peripheral vision as he looked at Sarah in the doorway.

Gene glared down at Sam, his expression hard despite his evident arousal. “No.”

“No?” Sarah tilted her head, confused, and Sam did not like what that might portend.

“No.” Gene nodded, grabbed Sam and pulled him up. He tossed his head at Sarah, motioning towards the bed, and she dropped her robe as she stepped past them to settle on her back. Sam glanced at her longingly and then felt Gene shake him.

“You get yours, Sam. I get mine. You tattoo your name on her ass, and I tattoo mine onto yours. That’s the way it’s gonna be for a while so you think about that while I hammer you into the mattress.” Gene threw him at the bed.

“I’m not your bitch, Gene.” Sam straightened up, angry and flustered.

“Strip.” Gene’s harsh instruction was betrayed by his hungry smile, and Sam decided to play the card he held. He backed towards the wall so Gene and Sarah could both watch him, and started to unbutton his shirt. Slowly. Gently. Without looking at either of them. It was trick he picked up a long time ago from an exhibitionist girlfriend in university, and he never forgot how erotic it was to watch her totally self absorbed in herself – it was better than any porn-star expressions of passion, because it was far more intense. She never looked him in the eyes when she stripped or fingered herself, and it was like spying on her. Like being naughty. Like being a tease.

He kept his eyes focused on the floor two feet in front of him and slowly peeled the shirt off, followed by his vest, rubbing his hands over his chest as he dragged the material up and over his head. He never felt like his body was much more than ‘scrawny’ and ‘lean’ but he had self-confidence on his side, along with two observers who knew what they wanted. There was no need to seduce, only inspire. He leaned back a little to support himself against the wall and started on his belt, then his trousers, never looking up. He heard rustling, saw motion out of his peripheral vision, but kept going, always running his hands leisurely over his skin as he went. When his pants fell last he lightly ran both hands over his thighs, resting one on his cock and the other sinking down to cup his ball sack. It was embarrassing, to a certain point, and just a little more slutty than he liked to be in bed, so he hoped Gene was not going to make fun of him. His arousal dialed down with the thought, and he looked up.

Gene was sprawled against the edge of the bed, his legs splayed out and holding himself up on one arm. His gazed was riveted to Sam’s hands, his own erection held fast in Sarah’s grip. She was sucking on one of his nipples and moaning while Gene’s free arm stroked her back. Locking eyes with Sam, Gene nodded at the bed and pushed Sarah back, forcing her to release him. She grunted in displeasure and Sam laughed softly. She looked up at him, her eyes bright and shining, and smiled.

Gingerly, Sam crawled onto the bed. Sarah reached out to pull him over her, and he fell into a leisurely, welcoming kiss that soothed his nerves. He allowed himself to feel wanted in that moment. He gave in to his desire to be between them, to feel her from the inside and to feel Gene inside him, to feel _needed_ and _wanted_ as if he belonged here.

He slid into her easily. She was relaxed and dripping, sopping wet. He did not care about that, in fact the thought that he and Gene were sharing that space deep inside of her turned him on and he panted with the effort not to just take off and pound at her. He shook with control as he slid slowly back out and then back in, leaning forward to nibble her ear. She sighed loudly and wrapped her arms up over his shoulders, holding him down close to her.

“Sam…oh Sam you are so beautiful…” She breathed, rubbing his back gently. He huffed a little.

“Isn’t that my line?” He squinted as talked, angling down to push in harder. She laughed.

“I only keep the pretty ones, Sam,” Gene said, moving around behind him until he was positioned between Sam’s legs, their skin barely brushing. Sam waited for hands to start on him but instead felt Gene lean over them, propping himself up on his arms. A series of hard, wet kisses rained down over his back and he felt as much as heard Gene groaning. Sam kept thrusting, Sarah’s legs locked against his, but he timed himself slowly and evenly, almost delirious in the sensations surrounding him and refusing to let go of that. He slid over her skin, holding himself up on one arm as his free hand caressed her breasts and shoulders and face, and all the while Gene matched his movements in order to keep kissing down his spine. Finally Gene sat back again and Sam felt heavy hands on his torso, rubbing at his rib cage and massaging the muscles in his back as if Gene were exploring something special and precious, something new that he wanted to own.

Then there was a pause as Gene pulled off, and angry at the loss Sam picked up his pace against Sarah, pounding hard into her a few times before Gene’s hand landed on his lower back, stopping him.

“’Ey, now, plenty of time.” The hand slid down and pulled Sam’s butt cheeks apart, then slick, lubed fingers were prodding him, gently and slowly.

“Sam…you done this before?” Sarah asked quietly as Sam gasped into her shoulder at the breech.

“Like this?”

“At all.”

“Yeah…ohhhh unnnhhh…” Sam groaned and pushed into her as Gene’s finger’s plunged deeper. “Not, not with a woman…”

“Damn, Hyde must not be as perverted as I thought.” Gene laughed, stroking lightly with his fingers, exploring. Sam had enough time to know what was hitting him when Gene tapped his prostate, and only prepared himself so far as to shove his face down into Sarah’s neck. His body took over then, fucking and bucking and straining for it. He was thrusting deeply into the woman below him while fingers stroked inside of him with a grounded, even rhythm. Sam rode the sensations, his brain clicking somewhere on the necessity of calming down, but Sam did not care and groaned out Gene’s name loudly before slamming back into kissing Sarah with a wide, sloppy mouth. She arched up and Sam heard Gene hiss behind him, jabbing his fingers inside of Sam at a fast pace, forcing him on, and Sam complied blindly. Sarah whined.

“She’s close, god damn look at her Sam…”

With another groan Sam raised his head just as her hands turned to claws and raked over his back. He howled in mixed pain and pleasure and dropped down hard onto her body, and she cried out loud nothings as she came, bucking up at him.

It all ended too soon and Sarah clutched him close as Gene pulled his fingers out. “Bloody ‘ell, Tyler, damn good show.”

Sam thought of three smart comments to throw back at the smug bastard but instead rolled his head over Sarah’s chest as she heaved for air. Finally he settled for “fuck you.”

Gene laughed. “Got off yet?”

Sam repeated himself.

“No? Blimey, Sarah, you’re slippin’.”

“Oh, Gene, my love. Fuck you.” Sarah smiled benignly.

Sam snorted and the spasm pushed his still throbbing cock back into Sarah, who was now so slick that her juices coated his upper thighs. The high pitched, acidic smell of sex filled the room and Sam sighed heavily as he started pumping at her again.

“Come on, love, put us out of our misery…” Sarah laughed, reaching down and grabbing Sam’s arse, slowing him down and pulling his cheeks apart. A brief moment of panic ran through Sam as he realized that Gene was one second away from mounting him and he was going to go at it hard and Sam had not been on the receiving end for several years. Sarah pulled so his own cock sunk deeper into her and then it was Gene, all Gene, prodding him and pushing down and gasping for breath as he penetrated. He stopped a few times and Sarah thrust with her own hips to keep Sam in the rhythm, to keep him calm, to help him relax as Gene took over.

“Sarah…love…is he alright? Still with us?” Sam heard the voice but distantly, lost in pain and lust and his cock wrapped up _her_ and his arse full of _him_ and he did not want to wake up from this dream or let it end or even think about it.

“Fuck me…jus’…Gene, please…” Sam’s voice croaked out the words, harsh and demanding.

“Yes…damnit…think I will…” Gene pulled out gently but slammed in and the pressure and the angle hit everything at once and Sam grabbed at Sarah, pinning her down as the men rode her and each other. Sam lost track of what he said or what was said over him but he heard Gene’s name and her name and he had no doubt that she came again under him as he pistoned between them, every thrust into her pulling Gene out of him and sometimes the rhythm got fouled as both men slammed down together at the same time but it was hot and sweaty and they were all beyond pain. Sam twisted a bit as he felt it starting again, his climax creeping up between thrusts and snarling awake in his gut and he finally yelled out Gene’s name when he came, pushing into her as his body curled up and his cock throbbed and spilled. He chanted her name softly while he wound down from the high.

Sam looked over his shoulder, his face slippery against her skin, to see Gene hammering down, his head up and his mouth set and his eyes closed.

“Jesus…Sarah, tell me…”

“He’s done, Gene, he’s done, he can barely move, come on, boy…” Sarah whispered but Gene heard her and snapped his hips, causing Sam to cry out in post-orgasmic overload. Finally a spring broke inside the man and Gene pounded into him ferociously. It was so intense Sam clutched up and locked his legs, scared of both of them slamming down onto Sarah and cracking her rib cage or worse, but the feeling of Gene's hot, thick cock inside him was all encompassing and for the first time in his life Sam actually felt himself writhing in passion, pushed over the farthest edge. He called out Gene’s name again and felt his hips pulled up. He scrambled to get his knees under him and Sarah sat up to grab his arms to stabilize him but Gene was not waiting, he reared up into position and held a vice-like grip on Sam’s hips as he slammed into him over and over, pushing and pulling at Sam’s body, gasping as Sam whined and squirmed.

“Love…my love…yes goddamnit I’m coming Sam, hold…fucking…ON…” Gene growled loudly and yelled out his final push into Sam, who groaned as he felt the swelling expand him even more and then the release fill him up and he kept groaning as Gene fell and pushed down. Sam heard it that time, his name and the word meant for him too, and he smiled at himself for being silly and needy and happy. The three of them wrestled a bit to get comfortable, and this time, Sam was left in the middle. He pulled Sarah close to him and snuggled up, once again feeling the full length of Gene behind him, one of his impossibly long legs hooked over Sam’s.

“Good enough for you?” Gene asked.

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“I’m going to stay,” Sam muttered into Sarah’s hair, and he felt Gene sling an arm over him, rubbing his chest for a moment before possessively squeezing him tight.

######


End file.
